


Synthetic

by YoungValiant



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Epic, Friendship, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 05:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20058583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungValiant/pseuds/YoungValiant
Summary: After the war in 2100, much of the United States has crumbled, leaving behind a shell of irradiated waste. Government has fallen as many were slain or mutated by the throes of war and atomic bombs that fell across North America. Androids, which were once everyday household items, have risen up against those who continue to use them, and The Brotherhood of Steel fights to keep all non-human entities in their place.Cona, a pre-war fabricated Synth who used to be a deadly weapon for the Detroit Police Department has managed to escape his previous residence and is now seeking asylum with The Railroad: a grab bag of people and beings who are allies of the non-humans who live in the United States. Follow his journey as he flees the damnation of the once great nation and finds refuge in Canada, the first country to name androids as valid citizens.A Fallout and Detroit: Become Human AU fanfiction.





	1. Chapter 1

Snow fell gently yet steadily from above, a light haze forming in the horizon. Much of the slush that fell underfoot was mixed with a great deal of mud and natural debris. Most of the thick, blinding flakes, as they settled softly into their place onto the ground, faded from a crisp white to dull grey nearly as soon as they landed. Visibility was at a low this evening, but through the forming fog that accompanied the evening storm was an amber haze; a key sign that the sun was beginning to set. 

The streets of Detroit were barren, as they tended to be these days. Many of the sky scrapers still stood tall, although dull and filthy. Expensive and flashy cars lined the main roads, long abandoned by previous owners who ran fearfully for their lives all those years ago, attempting to escape the fallout and radiation that plagued the now wasteland of the States. At one point, the Teslas that were now snow covered and tarnished by many months of open, irradiated air, were once the choice of travel for many of the wealthy that lived here. Now, however, they seemed like mobile coffins of memories that no one bothered to remember. Even the shop fronts were abandoned. They had previously held androids for sale, no different than a slave market. When Markus and Jericho, the rebel Synth group, had marched these very same streets in protest, most of the androids had been turned deviant and freed. Merchandise stolen right off the shelves. 

The snowy sidewalk was smooth and immaculate as more precipitation fell, albeit for a lone trail of thick and heavy footprints that clumsily made their way westward, away from the city center. A young man stopped at the end of the block, exhaling too loudly. No fog escaped his lips despite the freezing cold, he had long since deactivated his temperature regulation feature, tired of the simulated pain that torched his fingertips and the artificial shivers that shook his shoulders. A small glowing indicator on his right temple shone a tame blue, swirling as though it was a loading emblem for his thoughts. He had never thought about it much, but maybe in a way, it was. His exhale quickly turned into a huff. He glanced through the intersection, eyes scanning for potential threats. 

Cona was manufactured approximately 50 years ago by CyberLife, with intent to be a more perfected version of the police androids, who had formerly become deviant. Even during the peak of a world war, CyberLife never faltered in their production, no doubt to attempt to use newly pressed Synths for war. At the time, the revolution of androids for their equality and civil rights had mostly been culled by the government, but when nuclear fallout hit, all of humanity gave up on controlling the machines they despised. Since then, the Synth revolution has grown stronger in the States. Despite this, many androids, fearful for their lives, trekked Northern to Canada. Their newly implemented Synthetic Equality Laws became a beacon, and many Synths, like Cona, risked everything to cross the border. 

As it stood now, Cona was navigating his way to the nearest Railroad safehouse, known allies to androids and other oppressed races in the wasteland. At least, as best he knew how, the root of his current huffing was due to what seemed to be a navigation mishap. He was an android for fucks sake. His thoughts were running rampant. He was supposed to be good at this. Maybe somewhere along the way he acquired a glitch- he laughed inwardly at his mental musings. His face remained still and cool. 

Although he had been around for several decades, Cona remained quite young in appearance, built to be the perfect law defending machine. He stood tall, around six feet, broad. His face was smooth, clean shaven as a good officer should be. Fawn hair settled in waves on his head, but closely trimmed at the sides. He was built to perfection per the requirements of the former Detroit PD. These days, though, most of the government had been handed over to the Brotherhood of Steel, and they gave zero fucks about outward appearances, caring only that you are human, and hateful. The irony was a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Cona directed his pale eyes due west once more, he scanned the horizon, ensuring that he was still alone on the street. Nothing flagged his sensors. He slogged forward once more, silent. A leather gloved hand clenched the small revolver at his side for a false sense of comfort. It was the only weapon he had been able to lift on short notice. He hadn’t managed to save any caps, though if he had, he was sure that they would have been taken at the last settlement he had meandered through. Those bandits would have smashed his head in for any amount he had managed to keep on him. 

“Maybe being broke was a blessing in disguise,” he grunted under his breath, “wouldn’t do any good to spill blue blood all over the camp.” His head shook. 

\-------- 

Nearly one mile later found him in the suburbs. It was much darker now, though the apertures of his eyes adjusted well. In the distance Cona’s scanners traced the outline of the Detroit skyline. The minimal light was sufficing for now, but it wouldn’t for much longer. The temperature had also begun a steady decline, small pieces of ice clinging to his lashes and brows. His joints felt the slightest bit stiffer. To his delight, he had begun to recognize the key landmarks he needed in order to traverse the winding neighborhood streets. His path as he left Detroit was less of a grid with sharp corners and more of a snaking, gentle sloping back and forth. The tall offices and bank headquarters gave way to modest homes with peeling paint and boarded windows. The radiation had never been adequately strong here, but the air still hummed lightly, and at times a green cloud would roll through, bringing more intense radiation storms. The world felt dead and silent. His heavy steps were muffled by the harsh winds that were eddying around. Habit had him pulling his coat closer to him. 

A familiar house ebbed into view, and Cona sighed. Finally. He made a mental note to thank whatever higher power there was in the cosmos for allowing him to get here without any trouble. He understood his luck entirely; sheer fucking luck he hadn’t encountered any more Bandits, or worse, one of the faunae populating the area, deadly and mutated from years of radiation. On the front porch, one of the warped posts had a faded white emblem etched into its surface: a house, surrounded by eight lines, spoking outward as if emulating rays of sunlight. The Railroad safe house emblem. The young Synth sprinted towards the door. The crunching of snow turned suddenly into thumps as he loudly paraded over the quaking porch. He hoped for a brief moment that the structure wouldn’t give way under his weight. At the door, he knocked loudly, and waited. 

He heard some shuffling on the other side, he had no doubt caused a stir amongst the current patrons. Every once in a while, the local Brotherhood branch would make the rounds, both to terrorize the citizens into handing over highly valued provisions, and killing any non-humans on the spot. Cona silently cursed himself for not being more cautious, he noted that from now on he wouldn’t shy away from his police-work programming. Behind his eyes different scenarios played through like images on a high-resolution film. He planned his next moves more carefully and in advance. 

The door swung open and inward, revealing only a narrow strip of view into the house interior. Stepping into view was a petite brown woman, her face harsh with scars and frown lines, yet her eyes seemed softer somehow, and they complemented her round face. Her accent was southern and slightly thicker than expected. 

“What the hell do you want here?” she demanded, soft eyes narrowing. “Whatever you’re looking for I can promise that we don’t have any, so you can just get the hell on outta here.” Before Cona could even muster up a response, she had started to turn away and pull the door closed in his face, an instant shut down. 

“Wait,” he said firmly, using his hand to catch the door as it nearly came to latching closed. His fingers pinched somewhat between the heavy wood of the door and its frame, his own eyes narrowing instinctively. The woman shifted her gaze back to him and up into his face. Her black eyes widened slightly out of curiosity. Cona shifted some of his longer strands of hair away from his face, gesturing a gloved hand towards his indicator, now glowing a pale yellow: caution, anxiousness, excitement. It blipped in and out quietly. “My name is Cona. I’m an android,” he was slightly pleading; his voice was deep and tinged with nervousness. “I’m here for refuge. I’m supposed to be making the pilgrimage to Vancouver. I need to.”


	2. Chapter 2

After only a moment, the weathered door swung wider, revealing more of the woman and her home. It smelled nice, warm and inviting to Cona’s senses. Cona grunted in surprise as a caramel hand reached out to him, grabbing his arm, squeezing hard. 

“Don’t scare me like that,” she exclaimed, hurriedly. “I thought you were another of those Brotherhood types by your looks.” She scrutinized his all mostly black and leather attire, making obvious notes of the gun at his hip. “My name is Rose,” she stated, “Welcome to the Railroad; you’re welcome here.” 

Stepping into the den of the quaint house made Cona shiver. Despite the warm temperature he registered the inside as being, he could sense several other beings meandering about both on the ground level and in the upper quarters. A sort of hushed relief seemed to have fallen over the occupants. The android let his eyes fall closed, scouring his internal settings and “mentally” flipping a switch that allowed his temperature regulators to come back online. Almost instantly he was able to feel the warmth of Rose’s hand as it brushed his skin, a sensation he relished. Rose had pulled him into the house and clicked the door behind him closed, the soft clanking of a latch sounded as the entry was locked. Somewhere in the background he could hear hushed voices and footsteps of those shuffling around upstairs. No doubt, his sudden appearance may have startled the occupants into hiding. 

Cona inhaled as he heard the gruff laughter of a woman settled comfortably on the couch further indoors. She was exclaiming about someone who was supposedly “back on duty.” The Synth shook his head. Whatever that meant. Rose only rolled her eyes and half ignored the girl as she continued her jesting toward figure that was looming cautiously in the stairwell. Cona only halfway noticed him. 

“You’ll have to forgive us,” She said, cutting her eyes to the stairwell as the aforementioned form sauntered down them, “The team here has become set in their own ways, they don’t give much regard for strangers anymore. Too many risky escort missions or just missions in general.” Rose offered a shrug. 

“It’s alright.” Cona sat himself in a reclining chair nearest the couch where the laughing woman was perched. With a full view of the staircase, he eyed a ghoul that entered the living area. He had heard of ghouls before, but had never seen one in person. Almost none dared stay in Detroit where the Brotherhood was rising to power. Androids had it at least somewhat easier; the simple hiding or removal of their indicators made them near indistinguishable from humans. Ghouls tended to have gaunt faces and facial features carved away by long term radiation exposure. The Synth’s eyes cast themselves away from the stairs and back to Rose, in an attempt to avoid staring due to his intrigue. Another time, he thought. 

“I take this to mean you know why I’ve come to you,” Cona stated, matter-of-factly. Rose stood across from him with her arms crossed and a serious look glazed over her face, her hips tilted slightly to the side. She shifted her stance before settling into a position she found comfortable, leaning against the hearth. “I need an escort to Vancouver.” 

Rose cleared her throat before speaking. “Vancouver?” she was nearly yelling. “Why in the hell would you want to do that when Toronto is right up the freeway? Have you lost your ever-lovin' mind? That trip would take weeks.” Her accent drawled and her eyebrows dipped. Cona noted how quickly her facial features changed between caring and motherly, to serious and antagonizing. He felt her shadowy eyes scrutinizing him harshly. 

Cona spoke quickly and quietly. “Toronto is too dangerous now. With it so close, the Brotherhood has nearly every street on lockdown with numerous checkpoints.” His thoughts quickly flooded with maps and scans of the different routes out of the city. “Despite being much closer, Toronto’s proximity to Detroit makes it a huge risk for any non-human traveling that direction. If there was a way to slip past the Brotherhood’s checkpoints unnoticed, I would have done it. Trust me.” His voice was deep, inflection gentle. His words were firm. Pale eyes narrowed as he scanned the living room once more, passing over the ghoul nearby. Cona removed his thick leather coat and removed a small pack that had previously been concealed beneath it. His baseball t-shirt was grey in color, and hugged his arms which bulged with simulated sinew. His muscles were tense in anticipation. Mentally he was overstimulated and outwardly he was anxious. The Synth drew a breath as if to say, ‘calm, calm down, focus.’ He placed the pack on a small table next to him before reaching in and producing a few fusion cores. 

“I know it’s not much, but the cores I have could keep this place powered with energy for months. I don’t have any caps unfortunately. Didn’t have many chances to work while I was owned and slave driven,” He said bitterly. “Just take me as far as you can and I’ll make do with what I can beyond there.” He rested his elbows on his knees and arched forward. A few droplets of water ran down his face as the frost that had previously clung to his eyebrows melted in the warmth. His own skin temperature now reflected that of a human’s as the mechanical components within him began to regulate once more. His broad hands gathered around his mouth as he keeled over in thought. He briefly wondered if his humanistic traits were something he had picked up from his former owners or if they were pre-programmed. He shook the intrusive thought away before looking up expectantly. “I can’t do it without the Railroad. I’ll never make it.” 

In the dim lighting of the room, Cona’s indicator glowed a soft yellow. It flashed alarmingly a few times before settling into a solid and static golden light. He would have to see about pulling it out later. The damn thing always seemed to give too much insight into his personal thoughts. The android let out a barely audible huff. His frustration grew with the passing seconds. Behind his eyes, however, hid desperation and longing. 

The couch across from him made a strained creaking as the ghoul lilted over to the cushion beside the woman with the harsh tone. Cona felt his eyes dart upward, peering through black lashes at the creature sitting now nearly directly across from him. The ghoul was sunken and thin, but his eyes were bright grey and shone with an almost mischievous gleam. He was staring right into the android’s face, watching him carefully. As quickly as the contact began, it ended. Cona looked away. 

Rose sat thoughtfully. Her hands were wrenched together and her knees stiffened. Her shoulders shrugged lightly, as if sloughing off some internal turmoil. Her expressive face was screwed into a puzzled visage. Before she could speak, the gruff woman spoke up. 

“What you are asking for is a death wish,” she said with a matter-of-fact tone. “It doesn’t matter who we send with you; you’re talking nearly a thousand miles of radiation induced blizzards, ravenous Deathclaws, and more populous cities than you can count.” She chewed a fictitious cud as her teeth grinded. “What you’re asking for is sacrificial in its entirety. Stupid Synth.” 

“Lara!” Rose snapped, whipping her head toward her companion. “That’s quite enough. His payment is more than generous. It’s at least enough to start seeing if there are any volunteers willing to make the trip.” She reached out towards Cona’s pack, quickly palming a fusion core and feeling it hum against her hands. A slight glow emanated from the core as radiation ever so slowly seeped out. 

The previously silent ghoul let out a frustrated groan as he laced his fingers together. He appeared quite stoic, a calmness ebbing off of him like the warmth from a gas lantern. His grey eyes narrowed, shaded so much by his hairless brows that they appeared empty for a moment. His mouth was a straight line beneath a nose that gaped open like the face of a skull. 

“I’ll take him west,” the ghoul purred. Cona was taken aback by the youthful tone. He hadn’t considered that this ghoul may be so young, as they all seemed ageless. The ghoul’s skin was stretched tight across his collarbone, which was visible just slightly above the neck line of his coat. He appeared proud, leaning back into the leather sofa. Each of his long arms stretched out to either side of him, one gently resting across Lara’s shoulders, the other hanging slightly off the back. Rose was beaming. 

“Then it’s settled.” The fire crackled loudly as a log splintered, stirring small sparks in the air. “Cona, this is Matthias. He’s an excellent escort and a longtime friend. I trust him with my life.” 

The android shuffled in the recliner, once again looking into grey eyes. This time he held fast, the gaze unbroken. 

“It’s a pleasure,” Cona said coolly, his voice deeply wavering. “I appreciate your... eagerness to assist. I’m not looking for a bodyguard so much as a tour guide.” His hand waved slightly, as if pushing the topic away. “I’m perfectly capable of self-defense, but I haven’t spent much time outside of Detroit. I need someone who knows the land well.” 

“I assure you, Synth, I know these lands better than most around here.” His words were harsh but came across sounding lighthearted. “Canadian born, but after the war managed to rendezvous here with others in the Railroad. I wasn’t lucky enough nor rich enough to escape the radiation damage, but it was my skills and knowledge of the wilderness here that kept me alive.” He spat the last word bitterly. Sarcasm tinged his words. 

A loud thud boomed from above as if a heavy weight had been dropped. The noise was sharp enough amidst the hushed conversation that it drove Lara to her feet in an instant. Cona scanned through the room as he felt his shoulders involuntarily flinch. Rose’s eyes had widened and she brought her hand to her chest. He could see her thick fingers furled into her shirt and the knuckles had paled. The ghoul, Matthias, had remained statuesque, however. Only his eyes shifted slightly as they scanned Cona’s face in mild amusement. 

The short woman excused herself as she jaunted up the stairs. Her voice was faint as her discussion with whomever was upstairs carried down to Cona’s sensitive ears. He could just barely pick up the mood, as it seemed Rose was calming the person –people? – who had been in hiding. 

“Well,” Matthias stood, his long and limber limbs carrying him higher than Cona stood tall. “Better get some shut eye Synth. Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day.”


	3. Chapter 3

Sunlight fell in stripes across his face as light filtered in through the tattered bathroom blinds. His hand shook slightly as the knife he held against his own temple faltered near his indicator. One flash. Two flashes. Three flashes of bright red light, before the warm glow displayed steadily. He watched his own hand move against the flesh of his cheek just below his mark, as if he was watching someone else hold the cold steel. 

Between the cracks in the mirror and the grime that made its home there, he could see his reflection as it rippled across the uneven surface. His eyes were wide, his pupils dilating and contracting minutely with every change of the light that hit them. False tears moistened them. 

A gnarled and sinewy hand leapt suddenly into view from the left, the direction of the bathroom door. Cona whipped his hand through the air on instinct, focusing instantly on the threat that startled him. With precision the blade whistled through the air. The android crouched defensively against the edge of the cold ceramic bathtub. The hand caught the knife from the air expertly, halting the projectile just short of two grey eyes. The ghoul let out a low whistle. 

“Jumpy, are we?” His face was still as stone, but Cona thought he could see a laugh dancing in his eyes. 

A sigh. 

Cona lifted his now weaponless hand to his furrowed brow, rubbing the LED indicator on his temple briefly. He could feel Matthias staring at it intently and, the piercing gaze of this beast unsettled him slightly. 

“Don’t,” Matthias said. “I know how tempting it is for your kind to remove it, but you can’t hide amongst the humans anymore.” Matthias pocketed the knife in the hem of his own trousers for safekeeping. “Without it, we wouldn’t have known we could trust you.” 

“I have other ways to prove myself,” Cona stated harshly. 

“Your blue blood won’t save your ass in a pinch like that will.” The ghoul’s hand gestured at the side of Cona’s face. “And besides, it will be much easier for me to trust you on this godforsaken escort mission if I know what you’re thinking. Can’t have you trying anything funny.” 

The indicator faded from red to yellow. 

“In any case,” Matthias started, before meandering towards the hall way, “We really should head out soon. I have all my provisions ready.” His voice dimmed slightly as he faced away from the synth. “Get your shit together so we can leave. 

\----- 

The room Cona had hunkered in overnight was cramped. Atop the small cot that was crammed into the corner he laid out his backpack and the contents, less a pack of fusion cores he had surrendered to Rose the night before. He had managed to escape the Detroit PD with his Smith and Wesson Bodyguard and a few boxes of .38 ammunition. Mentally Cona noted that he may need to scavenge for more if he and the ghoul came across any bandit camps, abandoned or otherwise. He placed the revolver in a small strap at his hip, and shoved the ammo boxes into the bag’s main compartment. 

Additionally, he packed away some rope, two stimpaks, his knife (he had retrieved back from Matthias shortly after their encounter) and a gold plated lighter he had come across while fleeing the city. He didn’t have the need for any food items, nor radaway, as neither affected the android. Carrying minimal resources kept the synth lighter on his feet, as well as allowing him to wear the slim bag under his coat. He pulled the thick leather over the bag and shrugged it into place between his shoulder blades. He could keep the contents dry and away from distant eyes this way. 

Cona knelt next to the cot. He had used the six-inch clearance underneath to store his boots overnight while he waited for them to dry. By the smell he could tell they were still slightly damp, but not enough to add any extra weight. The boots were rugged and torn, but still holding up rather well. It sure as hell beat having to make sure nothing damaged his feet while he traveled. The pain he could turn off internally, but even he didn’t heal fast enough to prevent damage to the delicate system in place under his false flesh. 

He tied the laces expertly. 

In the hallway Cona passed a few others that had been taking refuge in the house. Namely the ones he could hear the day before. Two of them were humans, like Rose, who were part of the Railroad, although they looked on at the android with wide and fearful eyes. Some humans feared the synths ever since the revolution; many had been killed in the crossfire of the government and the deviants of Jericho who had stepped forward to stake a claim in freedom within the United States. Others only held contempt. 

Their eyes skirted away as Cona passed. They mostly left him alone. 

The other figure was another android like Cona, but a different model, one that had been designed for healthcare. She was thin and freckled. The two had shared a brief conversation the day before, only no words had been spoken. Taking away the glamor that made the robots look human allowed their circuitry to touch and information to cross. 

Phyra, she had called herself, uploaded to him a map of the region west of Detroit, in the direction he and Matthias were to travel. She also included a detailed blueprint for a few key replacement parts. Cona stored the information immediately, hoping silently he wouldn’t have to use it. Cona inquired why she didn’t come with him to Canada in order to seek asylum. Phyra denied him the request, and without a clear answer instead suggested that she must, in fact, remain here at the Railroad safehouse. 

Their entire exchange only took a moment, but Cona felt like they had been chatting for hours. Today she locked eyes with him as he passed. The side of her face was illuminated with a deep green hue that was stark against the shadowy passage. 

Good luck, she seemed to say. 

In the den Cona first arrived in, Lara was standing far to the side. Matthias and her shared some friendly banter back and forth, the gruff pair sharing a few sharp laughs and guffaws. “You owe me some Gwinnet Stout when you get back,” he heard Lara demand. 

Rose was leaned on the warm hearth of the fire place. A cigarette she had perched precariously between her lips glowed briefly. With grime covered fingers she pulled the butt from her mouth and tossed it into the gently lapping fire that sizzled quietly below. At the sight of Cona a corner of her mouth lifted slightly. 

“Thank you, Cona,” she drawled. “Get to Vancouver safely. I listened to the radio late last night, and I didn’t hear the Brotherhood mention any raids.” She clicked her tongue. “But then again, you know how those bastards are.” 

“Yes, you could say that,” Cona retorted. 

“Speakin’ of.” Rose grabbed a small device from her pocket before tossing it towards him. He caught it easily out of the air. 

“It’s a handheld radio, got a pair of earbuds wrapped around it. Thought it might be useful on y’all’s little excursion.” 

“I’m sure it will, Rose.” 

Cona’s vision suddenly went black as he felt a softness wave over his eyes. The synth had heard Matthias’ attempt to sneak up behind him. A creak of the floor board. The light hissing of a sharp breath. Cona lifted the thing from his head. It was a bomber hat. The fabric was worn in places, but the inside was real rabbit fur; a rarity in the Wasteland these days. 

“To cover that,” the ghoul hissed. “Don’t want the glow leading them like moths to a flame, you hear?” 

Cona settled the garment on his head. The flaps covered his ears, although the warmth was lost on him as he tuned out his internal regulators. The new sensation of his head being covered made his scalp crawl, but he accepted the item with a nod. 

“We better get a move on,” Matthias said. “We are wasting good daylight.” 

\----- 

An hour into the afternoon found the travelers found the pair well beyond sight of the city. Detroit’s skyline was barely noticeable now. The two had halted near the edge of another town, finding shelter in an abandoned home. It was in worse shape than the safe house, with a south facing wall nearly caved in. Cona could tell the air was freezing, and outside the snow continued to flurry intermittently. They had made good time since their departure in the early morning. Between the synth’s seemingly never-ending wealth of energy, and the ghoul’s enhanced endurance they had left nearly 20 miles behind them. This part of the country was mostly deserted, save for the mongrels and other creatures of waste. 

Matthias had spread a paper map along the ground, while Cona’s internal directional functions, along with his newly acquired information from the synth Phyra, displayed a magnificent rendering of the western regions of the state. The ghoul growled. 

“We have a problem,” he said, gesturing towards the map. 

“I see.” Cona was leaned against the dilapidated wall, his eyes closed while he inspected a map of his own. He all but assumed he knew what Matthias meant. 

“We either need to cut south or north quickly,” he began, “That lake is going to be a problem. I vote south. It is a lot closer to us.” 

“But also a lot more populous,” Cona warned. “I’m almost tempted to go north.” 

Matthias growled again. “Death wish,” he stated simply. “It’s too close to the Canadian border, it’s going to be swarming with Brotherhood bastards.” 

The pair sat in silence for a moment, letting the wind whistle through a hole in the roof. 

“Let’s cross the lake, then.”


	4. Chapter 4

It was well into the night before Matthias announced his desire to set up camp. Cona noticed as the evening grew darker and colder, the frost that emanated from his breaths had become quickened huffs. Even though the ghoul was strong and able bodied he needed more rest than the android. After the shadows stretched and the world was dark, the travelers came across a grouping of abandoned homes to use as shelter. The inside floor was blackened and charred. Remnants of old sleeping pallets remained; evidence of others making use of the structure long before their arrival. 

The cold was beginning to affect Cona as well. Without his regulators producing his own internal heat his joints were stiffening. Ice threatened to cease his movement altogether. An instant later found them running again, and slowly he could feel his breathing become more apparent in the air. Along with this was the sensation of paresthesia as it curled like tentacles through his palms. The synth rummaged through his pack after removing it before producing his flip lighter. 

Matthias coughed in the corner as he yanked an old picture frame off the wall with a sudden crack. A plume of dust rose and settled. He tossed the wood toward the room center where the ashes of previous fires stirred. He continued to grow the pile to suitable size, before Cona snapped a small flame beneath it. Golden light danced to life. 

“We’ll reach the lakeside tomorrow.” Matthias was sitting cross legged on one of the abandoned pallets of scrap, claiming his resting point for the night. “Have you thought about how we should go about crossing?” 

“Swim, maybe.” 

The ghoul frowned at Cona’s statement. He didn’t seem to care much for the joke. 

“There are several harbor towns bordering the lake. I’m sure we can rig up a boat. If we’re lucky maybe we can steal one still running.” 

Matthias looked thoughtful for a moment, then began to nod his head slowly. “I guess it’s worth a shot as much as any, but if it doesn’t work out the southern road around the lake is still our best bet. I know you’re wanting to avoid any contact. To be honest, not every settlement between here and Vancouver is Brotherhood controlled. We can always find another Railroad house to check in to.” 

“Do you know the location of any other safe houses?” Cona asked, an eyebrow slightly raising. 

When Matthias shook his head Cona indicated his disapproval. 

“Not exactly. I’m sure you’re aware the Railroad isn’t too keen on announcing the location of their groups. Otherwise I’m sure the Brotherhood would disband them.” The fire began to pick up fuel as it ate away at the modest stack of kindling they had prepared. Orange light flickered menacingly beneath their faces, and harsh shadows danced on the walls. A floorboard creaked as Matthias shifted his weight. His voice rasped out harshly when Matthias began to speak again. 

“As we get closer to the shoreline there ought to be more settlements. We can keep an eye out for any news. If we get a chance to meet up with the Railroad again, we should take it.” 

Cona fidgeted with a strap on his backpack as his eyes glassed over in thought. He pulled the bomber hat Matthias had provided him with off his head, revealing his sweaty hair as it matted to his face in subtle waves. He wiped his brow with the neck of his shirt. His indicator was bright blue, but blipping on and off intermittently as his mind raced. 

“What about you?” he asked Matthias. “Won’t you have any issues concealing...” Cona trailed off as his words choked him back. He coughed and waved a hand erroneously. 

A throaty chuckle settled over the pair. 

“Is that what you’re worried about?” An ominous grin brought the corners of his mouth upward and his eyes glinted in the darkness. “You can thank your own kind for that Blue Blood. The Brotherhood doesn’t give a rat’s ass about ghouls lately. Something about how unthreatening it is to be able to single us out of a crowd. Between that and the battles Jericho singlehandedly started, it seems to me that they only fear what they don’t, or can’t, understand.” 

Yellow appeared at Cona’s temple as his indicator flashed vibrantly. He cast his eyes downward to his own lap, crossing his arms loosely and relaxing against the brick column at his back. 

“My face is the least of your concerns, Synth.” 

Matthias turned away from him before settling down to sleep. 

\----- 

Cona stoked the fire overnight to keep the frost away. However, the next morning was white with an icy rage. Even with the heat from the fire, both of their breaths were vapor in the still morning air. With the stamp of his boot Matthias killed the last few embers as the pair began the second day of travel. 

The Wasteland outside was ghastly silent. Only the sound of crackling snow could be heard underfoot as the ghoul and Synth stuck to the old side roads while journeying west. The pavement was almost completely whited out, as if a large hand had attempted to erase the pen strokes from a fresh shred of paper. Dark clouds loomed above, suggesting more snow. Despite the acute lack of sunlight, the area around them was well lit as the snow and ice reflected what managed to filter through the weather. 

The nature around them ebbed, as it waxed and waned between small townships and forests that looked as though they hadn’t seen a sentient being in decades. 

Cona could tell that they were getting close to the water front later that afternoon. A sour and fishy scent pulled at his nostrils. He analyzed it quickly as the smell of stagnant water and deceased aquatic life that had long since washed to shore. Through the haze of fog that had begun to roll in off the water, buildings began to emerge and signs of life along with it. 

Matthias produced what Cona could only liken to a hooded cloak from his own stash of supplies and pulled it down low over his eyes. Only a reflection of his irises could be seen. He looked down at Cona and offered a wink. The synth rolled his eyes in response. 

“You might want to do that thing you do,” Matthias said, causing confusion to across Cona’s face. “You know...” The ghoul indicated to his own mouth as he exhaled, producing a small cloud from his throat. 

Cona let his temperature warm. He shivered involuntarily, wondering how the ghoul managed to keep warm in the frigid climate. Soon his own breath vapor began to puff out. 

“Thank you.” 

The closer they got to town, the more tracks they could see on the road. Between the humanoid foot prints, the animalistic prints of either companions or mounts, and tires from varying vehicles, Cona began to grow anxious at how populous the lakeside city may actually be. 

“We still have enough light,” Matthias said. “We ought to at least check out the docks and water before we try to find an inn.” 

The android nodded in agreement. 

As they climbed a steep set of unstable wooden stairs up towards one of the main piers, Cona was casting his eyes side to side. There was a small crowd out even this late in the evening. A few fish stalls were open and he could pinpoint several conversations that enticed bartering from the customer and stall owner. Most words exchanged were harsh. Their accent was one Cona didn’t quite recognize. A few passersby caught his eyes; their stoic expressions offering no inkling of what impression was left. 

“Eyes front, Cona,” Matthias said very softly. As he sauntered next to the synth he offered a friendly hand on his shoulder. Cona’s own name sounded unfamiliar coming from him. It was the first time he had heard Matthias say it. No doubt he was being careful of his words due to the crowd. 

“Don’t act so suspicious.” 

Cona nearly opened his mouth to retort but decided to say nothing. Instead, his mouth continued to hang slack jawed, as he stared with wide eyes at the lake that now spread out before him. Even with his enhanced vision he couldn’t make out the shore beyond. 

“I-I didn’t realize it was that cold.” His stutter reflected his shock. 

Even the normally hard to read ghoul had wider than normal eyes as he peeked from the darkness of his hood. 

The lake was nestled in front of them, expansive and stark white against the grey that was closing in around them, frozen solid. 

\----- 

Matthias had bartered for the pair to share a room in the dreary upstairs of a poorly maintained inn a short walk from the lake. The cashier behind the oaken counter regarded them carefully, before deciding to allow them shelter for the night, letting them know that their room was the second door on the right of the second floor. Matthias decided to abandon his things in their room before returning back down to the main floor to relax and eat at the bar. Cona chose the opposite, keeping his slender bag on along with the thick leather coat that concealed it. The ghoul retained his hood. 

The two both ordered some provisions and a drink. Cona didn’t need any substance to sustain life, but did so to keep up appearances. To prying eyes he looked as human as any other patron, save for Matthias and another ghoul they had both noted eating alone at a table in the corner. Underneath the flaps of his cap, Cona could feel his indicator fade slowly in and out. He kept a watchful eye out. 

With one swift chug, Matthias emptied the glass of some sort of brown liquor, producing a sigh of satisfaction and wiping the remnants away with the back of his hand. He tore into a stew that sat in front of him eagerly, while Cona noted that it both looked and smelt like a dog’s breakfast. He grimaced before taking a drink of his own. He could feel the burn of the alcohol as it passed his lips and sank down to his abdomen, but otherwise the effects of the alcohol were lost on him. He spooned his own meal in one bite at a time, expressionless. 

Once finished, Matthias pushed his utensils away and let his shoulders relax. Cona noted that he couldn’t recall seeing him eat the past few days. We will need to hunt or scavenge for food so he won’t starve. 

“So,” he began, watching Cona intently. 

“So,” Cona echoed. 

“What now?” 

Cona took a moment before responding, carefully planning out and mapping in his head the various options that still remained. His eyes closed for a moment while he thought. 

“At least we won’t have to steal a boat.” The travelers laughed nervously. 

“You’re right about that,” Matthias purred, thumbing his fork absentmindedly. “I’m glad for it. I’m sure it would stir up quite a stink.” 

“Yes, not exactly subtle.” 

Silence. A few tense moments passed and Cona pursed his lips. “The maps Phyra transferred me end at the Michigan border, so I’m not sure what lies on the other side.” 

“I say we chance Milwaukee,” the ghoul offered, “It’s a large settlement and teeming with all factions, but it definitely offers a better chance than Chicago does. It’s almost a straight shot from here if not a bit south. We could save a chunk of time.” 

“That still doesn’t solve our biggest problem,” Cona said. 

“What?” 

“How the fuck do we get there?” 

Matthias looked thoughtful for a moment, bringing broad fingers to his chin, rapping away at the scarred surface of his skin. Cona spooned another bite into his mouth before chewing slowly on a rubbery piece of squirrel flesh. He toyed with it between his teeth. 

“We could always walk across.” 

Cona coughed, his throat clearing away surprise. “What?” he hissed, a little too loud. The few others that were in the bar cast sideways glances at the two. Cona ignored them and coughed again. “What?” he asked again, maintaining a lower volume this time. 

“You heard me.” 

“Are you fucking crazy? Has the radiation gotten to your head? We could die out there.” 

His escort shrugged before leaning forward on the table to rest his elbows against the worn smooth surface. He interlaced his fingers thoughtfully and stared Cona in the eyes. 

“We could die here,” he said matter-of-factly. His fingers twisted against each other. 

The two bickered back and forth for nearly an hour, weighing the pros and cons of each route they could take, pulling out Matthias’ map a few times to fill in for the gaps in Cona’s own. Cona replicated and committed to memory what he could. In the meantime, Matthias had ordered another bowl of the gruel and was gulping it down, although slower than the first. Finally, Cona shook his head in defeat. 

“If you truly believe it will be our best chance, then I trust you.” 

Matthias gave a tight-lipped grin, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I do,” Matthias said. “I wouldn’t even begin to suggest it if not.” 

Cona nodded, finally accepting the ghoul’s response. At the conclusion of their discussion, the two retreated up to the rented room, away from the suspicious looks they were accumulating, in order to rest until dawn.


End file.
